Small Bites
by notapepper
Summary: A collection of FitzSimmons drabbles and ficlets.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

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><p>"Fitz…" she began, a small wrinkle marring her forehead as she skirmished the right approach around in her mouth, "Did you tell your mother we're dating?"<p>

"What? Us? Like _that?_ I mean, that's just- erm, why do you ask?" he squeaked, scratching a spot behind his ear.

"Well," how could she put this, "maybe because when she told me to leave my bags in your room, she _winked _at me?" Her voice was beginning to crackle with righteous affront.

Fitz put his hands in front of him, palms out. "I didn't- Simmons, I _swear _I didn't tell her we were datin'. But she just kept tryin' to set me up with these girls from church every time I came home, and well… she misinterpreted you comin' home with me, that's all."

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><p>Simmons stood in the entryway to the lab, eyes rimmed red, hair shorter than before. "Fitz." The name jumped from her throat, amphibian and strange.<p>

"Mack," Fitz reached back blindly, his hand grasping for the taller man's presence, "Mack, do you see that... Do you see her?"

"Yeah, I see 'er. Calm down, now, don't wander off on me." The mechanic waved a massive hand in front of Fitz's face.

He couldn't breathe. "Simmons. Si-" His eyes declared war on the rest of his face, his voice shattered, his pen _thunked _out of the side of his mouth.

"Simmons? This your old partner?" Mack assessed her, saw the way her eyes were locked with Fitz's, the pain stretched out between them like strands of old glue recently submerged. "Yo, uh, I've got inventory to check." He built the excuse like one of his engines. "You cool here, Turbo?"

"Sim- it's Simmons. She's back from the, er… back from the... " He was still staring, they both were, her gaze carving an epitaph across his gravestone face.

"Back from my assignment." She stepped forward, invisible shackles clanking. For a fragment of a second, grief twisted her features, before she somehow wrenched her expression - like re-setting a bone - into an agonized smile. "Is that what I am, Fitz? Your _old _partner?"

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><p>"<em>Christ!"<em> Fitz jumped slightly at the press of her icy toes and hopped up from his seat. "Y' daft woman," he chuckled, disappearing into the hall. He returned after a few minutes with a pair of thick, woolen, reindeer-printed socks balled up in his hands. Settling back on the couch, he took up one of her chilly feet in his unseasonably warm grip and tugged the sock on.

"Aren't those the socks your nan knitted you?" She couldn't keep the affection from turning her voice to molasses.

"Indeed they are. An' you'd best not steal this pair, hear?"

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><p><strong>AN: Y'all do not have to leave a review on this. I'll be updating periodically as I mess around with different ideas, but this is mostly for my own organizational purposes (I just really like to have all my fic together).**


	2. Chapter 2

Pirate AU:

"Ahoy, me hearty!" Jemma Redbeard grappled the Scottish Devil into a rough hug. "We be lookin' for ye a fortnight or more! I was afeared you'd been made t' walk the plank!"

The bedraggled first mate scooped her into a twirl before digging into the pockets of his garish striped vest. Dangling a string of iridescent pearls, he winked. "Nay, Cap'n! I were jus' off fetchin' ye this paltry token o' me undyin' affection."

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><p>Southern Romance Novel (absolute crack!) AU:<p>

Leofrick and Jemmaline clashed together sexily like two irate badgers, tongues battling for dominance, fingers clawing and tearing at their mutual bodices. "Mah word, Mister Fitz, you shore do know how to make a girl untidy."

Oh, yes. They were _both_ wearing bodices. Leofrick spun her around and yanked her crinoline down, knocking over a tray of cucumber sandwiches and their half-finished mint juleps. She flung her hands out to brace against the ornate white column of the wraparound porch, gasping as his fingers found their mark.

"I aim t' please, Miz Jemmaline."

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><p>40's Hardboiled Detective AU:<p>

It was hot. Too hot. I hadn't seen a case in days. The seconds crawled by like a three-legged sewer rat. Then Trouble walked through my door and dropped a C-note on my desk. Right away I knew I was sunk. Sleepin'-with-the-fishes, French-number-five sunk. Those legs were workin' - that pair of stems went _all_ the way up. They were good. Hell, the whole package was good.

"Please, you gotta help me! I got nowhere else to turn!"

I took a drag on my cigarette. Blonde - just my luck. Blondes should come with a warning label. I put my feet up and tossed my lighter on the desk. "Take a seat, angel."

Rule number one: never fall in love with a client. But those baby blues hit me like a two-bit goon in a back alley. "Now, what's a sweet kid like you doin' in a joint like this?"

(Possible title: Jemma Simmons, P.I.)

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><p>Vampire AU:<p>

"For th' love o' Drakul, Jemma," Fitz pouted, "I severed his brachial artery so we could drain him, not so y' could turn him into one of us."

"Oh, but he's so well-formed and symmetrical." Jemma bared her fangs seductively as she began Triplett's transformation. "And I've been wanting a plaything for centuries…"

A muffled whimper sounded from the old museum floor as the terrified soldier began to wake. Spying his attackers, he groaned. "Aww, hell no!"

"C'mon, vladdie." Fitz motioned for their newest recruit to follow. "Baby vamps get coffin'-cleanin' duty."

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><p>More Vampire AU:<p>

"For a Soldier of Sunshine, mate, you've got some decent moves." Lance passed Triplett a goblet of O-negative while Fitz continued to scowl. "Almost staked me twice."

Jemma sat in Fitz's lap, nearly purring. "Oh, why such a grump, darling? I still love you best."

"It's not about that, Jem, and y' _can't_ love me - y' haven't got a soul." He sighed, the gesture all the more petulant because he didn't actually need to exhale. "I just didn't think we'd spend our last night in London bloody baby-sittin', is all."

Lance winked, leaning in to add conspiratorially, "I met a barmaid named London, once. Spent a fair few nights in _her_."

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><p><strong>AN: **

**So this chapter is a compilation of various weird, out of character, fake excerpts I teased my Secret Santee with during the FitzSimmons gift exchange this year (the actual fic was just Christmas fluff, nothing too elaborate). Needless to say, she wasn't fooled. But I like to think at least she was amused.**

**Also, I'd like it on record that the 500-character limit on tumblr anonymous asks is terribly unfair.**


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